Revenge, Russian Style
by Lieutenant Caine
Summary: Our friends the Russian Mob are back.
1. Chapter 1

**Revenge, Russian Style**

**(Reprinted with permission from the original author)**

Я предупреждаю вас, лейтенант, его нет сверх. Оно только начинал.

(I warn you, Lieutenant, it is not over. It has only begun.)

The day had not begun well for Horatio and the team. What had appeared to be a simple case of robbery gone wrong had dissolved into a tangled web of false leads and dead ends, overshadowed by the grim specter of the Russian Mob. After finally getting a break, the CSI team and MDPD had chased down and apprehended one of the thugs involved in the theft and murder. Horatio, Calleigh and several uniformed officers were standing in the parking lot in small groups around patrol cars discussing particulars when a tiny flash of light from across the street, caught the corner of Calleigh's eye. Turning to look, she detected the glint of a gun barrel, barely discernable even to her CSI trained eyes.

"Gun!" she barked out and dropped behind a car, just as bullets began whining overhead. Calleigh's .45 bucked in her hands as she returned fire.

Horatio drew his weapon and spun toward the patrol car to shove the Russian down in the back seat, but before he could get there, Calleigh saw his body jerk under the impact of a high velocity bullet. He managed to stay upright against the car for a moment, then slumped down to the ground, a rapidly spreading crimson stain covering the front of his shirt.

"Horatio! NO! Calleigh screamed out.

Two parking spaces over and pinned behind the radio car as she was, she could only watch in panic as Horatio struggled valiantly to maintain consciousness. She grabbed her cell phone and keyed the radio feature, instantly connecting her to dispatch.

"This is CSI Duquesne, I need rescue! Officer down! I repeat, officer down!"

Her eyes scanned the scene, looking for the source of the gunfire, but the car blocked her view. A bullet ricocheted off a nearby tree with a wicked whine and plowed into the concrete at her feet, spraying stinging shards up into her face. Disregarding the small injuries, she lay down in a prone shooter's position and quickly began to crawl toward Horatio. Adrenaline and fear screamed through her veins. She knew she was taking a terrible risk in leaving the cover of the car, but she was frantic to get to him. The hail of bullets continued overhead as she painfully made her way across the open expanse of concrete toward the downed head of CSI. One bullet sang dangerously close over her head and she instinctively ducked, fully expecting to feel the searing pain of hot metal pierce her body.

Finally she reached him, and relief washed through her in a tidal wave when she saw his chest rise and fall…he was breathing, but gravely wounded. The bullet had slammed into his left shoulder just above his heart. Blood welled up from the entry wound, and regardless of her lack of gloves, Calleigh pressed one small hand against the ragged hole in his chest to slow the bleeding. His warm blood streamed through her fingers as she knelt to him, desperately willing her own strength into him to help him hang on to life.

"Stay with me, Horatio. Stay with me," she begged. "Rescue is on the way."

She lifted her other hand to smooth a lock of hair away from his face. Her heart contracted painfully at the paleness of his face, and the awful stillness of his body. So many times this man had been the source of strength for them all, and now he was lying helpless with a bullet in his chest. Her eyes stung with tears that she refused to let fall. Horatio needed strength now, not tears. At some point the firing stopped, but Calleigh was oblivious to everything except the injured man whose life was seeping through her fingers.

She turned her head when she heard the approaching wail of a siren, announcing the arrival of the ambulance. The driver parked next to the car sheltering the two CSI's, and Calleigh thought she'd never seen a more welcomed sight than the two paramedics who stepped out of the ambulance and started toward her in a brisk trot..

"He has a single gunshot wound to the chest, possibly rifle. He is unconscious but breathing. He needs immediate transport." Calleigh's voice was shaking with fear for Horatio.

"Thank you, Ma'am," answered the youngest paramedic who knelt by Horatio's side. We'll take it from here."

"I'm riding with him," Calleigh said in a voice that brooked no argument. No amount of protocol or anything else would keep her from his side.

"Certainly, Ma'am," he answered with an understanding look on his face. "Can I please ask you to step back now so we can work?" His voice was kind, but just as unyielding as hers. "When we are ready to transport, you may definitely ride with him."

She nodded, stepping back a respectful distance from them, wrapping her arms around herself in an effort to ward off the tremors that were beginning to rush through her body. Adrenaline backwash surged through her in waves, making her weak and nauseated. She closed her eyes against the dizziness and drew in deep breaths to clear her head.

Quiet but urgent words flew back and forth between the two paramedics working on Horatio. "Victim is unresponsive…we need an IV…blood pressure is too low…major blood loss…pulse rate is dropping…we have to get him there fast."

"Miami-Dade, we have a male victim with a single gunshot wound to the chest. We are in transit, please prepare for our arrival," Calleigh heard the young man say after what seemed like hours, and turned to see them gently lift Horatio's still body onto the gurney and roll it toward the open back doors of the ambulance. She joined them and accepted a hand from the paramedic who helped her climb in beside Horatio. The back doors closed and she heard the siren scream as the pulled out of the parking lot.

Inside the ambulance, Calleigh could do nothing but watch the rise and fall of Horatio's chest, silently willing the motion to continue, to grow stronger. A mask covered the lower half of his face, forcing life-giving oxygen into his lungs. An IV dripped fluids into his arm, and a cardiac monitor recorded the weak beating of his heart. Calleigh reached out and covered his hand with hers, her thumb softly stroking across his knuckles.

"Hang on, Handsome. Please, hang on. I can't lose you like this."

She wasn't even aware of having spoken her thoughts aloud until the young paramedic seated across from her spoke quietly.

"You love him, don't you?"

It was a gentle observation. Anything else would have made Calleigh deny the truth.

"Yes, I love him."

"Does he know?" The young man's eyes were sympathetic

"He's my boss." Tears welled in her green eyes, momentarily blinding her. She angrily dashed them away with her hand.

"Protocol…I understand."

"Will he make it?" she asked

"He's strong and healthy, and that goes a long way in these cases. He's got a better chance than most, I'd say."

Calleigh clung to that reassurance.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

The sudden, strident beeping from the cardiac monitor at Horatio's head shattered Calleigh's infant hope. Instantly her eyes flew to the screen and she knew…

"Richard, we're losing him!" shouted the paramedic toward the driver. "Drive man, drive!" Then he turned to Calleigh. "Ma'am, please stay as far out of my way as possible. I'm going to have to use the defibrillator."

With no time for finesse, he tore Horatio's shirt the rest of the way open, heedless of the buttons that ripped from the cloth. Quickly he attached the leads to the correct points on Horatio's chest and adjusted the setting on the AED for the correct current.

"Clear!"

Electricity flowed into Horatio's body, jolting it violently.

"No pulse. Clear!"

Again the AED delivered its shock.

Again nothing.

A third time the shock made Horatio's body buck upward, and this time a faint, soft bleeping overrode the monitor's ominous alarm.

"We have a pulse…"

No sweeter words had ever fallen on Calleigh's ears.

By this time, they had reached Miami-Dade Hospital and the ambulance skidded to a stop at the already opening doors of the ER. The back doors of the ambulance swung open and the driver and paramedic pulled out the gurney, set it down, and began running with it toward the waiting team of doctors who were assembled.

"Pulse rate?" One doctor asked.

"45"

"Blood pressure?"

"55/40"

"Respiration?"

"Slow and weak."

"We have to stabilize him before we can remove the bullet. Have surgery standing by ready to receive."

This entire exchange was carried out while the doctors and nurses were in a dead run. Two guided the gurney; one held the IV bag and a third held the oxygen mask against Horatio's face. Calleigh tried to follow, but a nurse stopped her.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am, but you can't go back right now. He is being taken in for immediate emergency surgery. I will let you know when there is any news."

Calleigh pleaded to be allowed to stay with him, but the nurse was firm.

"No, Ms. Duquesne. For his sake understand. They can have no distractions while they are stabilizing him. I'm sorry, but I promise as soon as it is okay, I will let you back to see him. Now please try to calm down."

Calleigh watched in despair as the doors closed behind the nurse, shutting off her view of him. She leaned against the wall in dejected misery, her small hands clenching and unclenching in frustration. Her whole being screamed to be at his side, to see for herself that he was in good hands. She closed her eyes desperately against the stinging tears and slid down the wall to sit huddled on the floor. How long she sat there like that, she did not know. She only knew that from somewhere above her Frank Tripp's gruff but kind voice was calling to her. She forced open her eyes and looked up at the tall Texan. Frank smiled down at her and tilted his head in a heartwrenching similar way.

"Calleigh, come on girl. Come back out to the waiting room with us. You're gonna get stiff and sore sitting on the hard floor like that."

He reached out a hand to help her up. Gratefully she took the offered help and allowed herself to be pulled quickly to her feet. Tiredness swept over her, causing her to be unsteady and she stumbled and landed against Frank's broad chest. She was so weary that for a moment she simply relaxed, resting against the solid warmth beneath her cheek. It felt heavenly to be sheltered and protected for that fleeting moment.

"You okay, Cal?" Frank murmured, as he hesitantly closed his arms around her in a hug.

"I have to be, don't I Frank?" Her voice was partially muffled by the gaudy, lime green tie Frank was wearing.

"Yeah, ya do, Cal." Frank loosened his arms from around her and stepped back to look at her. "Ready to go?"

"I guess."

"Any news from the surgery?" Frank asked as they walked down the hall to the waiting room.

"None yet," she sighed. "Who else is here?"

"Wolfe and Nat. Delko is on his way."

When they reached the waiting room, both Ryan and Natalia rose to meet her and Nat pulled Calleigh into a warm hug.

"Calleigh are you okay?" Her chocolate brown eyes radiated concern.

"Nat, I'm exhausted, shaky, punch drunk from adrenaline, and mad as hell at Ivan Sarnoff. Do we know anything about the shooter?" Did anyone find anything?" A massive yawn threatened to split her face. The physical and emotional strain of the last few hours was beginning to take a heavy toll on Calleigh's body.

Natalia started to answer, but as she did, Eric walked in, cell phone to his ear, talking excitedly.

He finished his conversation and turned to the two women and Ryan. "Hey, Nat, Cal, Ryan…That was MDPD. The found our shooter…a Yevgeny Strelnikov. He's singing like a bird. Apparently he is afraid of his former brotherhood and wants to turn state's witness in exchange for witness protection.

"That's the first good news I've heard all day," Calleigh said tiredly. And for the first time in hours, she began to relax a little.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"Calleigh."

She heard a voice from far away.

"Calleigh…" more insistent this time.

"Hey, sleeping beauty, wake up already."

This time the voice was accompanied by a hand gently shaking her shoulder.

Startled, she opened her eyes and looked up to see Eric gazing down at her with a bemused look on his face.

"Wha…what happened? Oh my gosh, Eric. Did I fall asleep?" She was still a little groggy from having been wakened unexpectedly. "I only meant to close my eyes. How long was I out?"

"You've been asleep for almost four hours, Cal. You needed it. I would have let you sleep longer, but the Doctor is here, and I knew you'd want to hear his report.

Calleigh stood up, stretching muscles that were cramped and aching after sleeping in a hospital waiting room chair for so long.

"Eric, I would have positively killed you if you hadn't woke me up."

They made their way over to the rest of the group and a tall, distinguished looking gentleman in a white lab coat.

"The surgery went fine," he was saying, "and we were able to remove the bullet with no complications. Lieutenant Caine has such a strong physique that I expect a quick recovery for him. He is resting comfortably in recovery. He is NOT, however, being cooperative at all. He keeps asking for his badge and gun and also one Calleigh Duquesne."

"That would be me," Calleigh said.

"Then you may be the first to go back to see him. And Ma'am, can you try to talk some reason into him? He insists on being released quickly, says he needs to work on this case."

The entire group laughed in sheer relief. If Horatio was feeling well enough to ask for his badge and gun, then he was indeed going to be okay.

"If you'll follow me, Ma'am," said the doctor.

When they reached Horatio's room, he was propped up in the bed against several pillows, his chest bare except for the large white dressing that covered the wound. He was agitated and giving the nurse a hard time.

"I don't need pain medication. I'm not hurting that badly," he grumbled and then winced when he tried to reach for the cup of ice chips that was on the tray next to his bed.

"Not hurting that badly, eh?" the nurse answered with a small grin on her face. "Lieutenant Caine, you WILL take this medication, as per the doctor's orders, or I will give it you via an injection…" her voice dropped to a theatrical stage whisper… "_and it won't be in the arm, I assure you."_

Horatio blushed and scowled and finally said, "Okay…but only one pill. I don't want to be all doped up."

Calleigh had to smile in spite of herself.

"Hey, Handsome. Feeling well enough to harass the staff, I see," she quipped as she entered the room.

"Calleigh, thank heaven you're here. Do you have my badge and gun?"

"Yes, I do Horatio, but you're not getting them."

"Calleigh…," he began and his voice carried tones of a scolding.

"Horatio, listen to me…" Calleigh's tone was sharp and Horatio's eyebrows climbed to his hairline at her abrupt interruption of his speaking. "…you were shot in the chest, lost a boatload of blood, had emergency surgery, and are in recovery with nothing on but your boxers and a bandage over your chest. I will NOT give you your badge and gun, and you will NOT leave this hospital till the doctor has released you." Her voice was shaking by the time she finished her little outburst. "I don't know why you have to be so tough all the time, Horatio."

She turned her back to him to keep him from seeing the feelings that had crashed back down on her again. The sight of him lying there, vulnerable in spite of his formidable strength, undid her carefully controlled emotions. Tears sprang up in her eyes.

"Hey…Sweetheart I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you." His voice had taken on that warm tone he always used when he was being Horatio and not Lieutenant Caine.

"Come here," he said quietly… "come here and let me see you, Calleigh. They told me you left cover to get to me and that you controlled the bleeding until the ambulance arrived."

She nodded and walked over to stand by the side of his bed, not trusting herself to say anything. He carefully inched over in the bed a bit and patted the place beside him.

"Sit down, Cal."

Carefully she sat down on the edge of his bed so as not to jostle him too much. His hand reached up to touch her face, gently tracing the abrasions from the concrete shards.

"What happened? You have cuts and scratches on your face." His touch sent tiny surges of awareness licking through her senses.

"Those are from a ricochet," she answered, not trusting herself to turn and look at him as she spoke. His nearness, his touch, and the sight of his bare, muscled chest were doing a number on her self-control.

His fingers gently gripped her chin and turned her to face him. She could have drowned in his eyes.

"Tell me about the ambulance ride, Calleigh," he said softly.

Her throat suddenly went dry with realization and she couldn't speak.

"I heard you, Sweetheart," he whispered, his fingers stroking the side of her neck.

She couldn't tear her eyes away from his, nor hide the truth any longer.

"Horatio, I…" she never finished her sentence. His hand slid behind her neck to pull her down toward him, their lips meeting in a kiss as intense as summer lighting. Horatio's hands held her close against him while her hands slid hungrily across his naked chest.

"Ahem!"

Calleigh and Horatio broke apart like a pair of guilty teenagers and looked up at the doctor. He was watching them with a very stern look on his face.

"Ms. Duquesne, when I asked you to talk some sense into him, this was NOT what I had in mind."

"Yes, sir," Calleigh said as she scrambled off Horatio's bed, her face a bright pink with embarrassment.

"However, since it seems to have put a little color in his face, I guess it won't hurt to let you stay with him for now," the doctor smiled. "But absolutely no more cute tricks like that. An elevated heart rate could cause him serious complications."

He checked Horatio's pulse and blood pressure and seemed pleased that their little interlude had caused no ill effects to his patient. Then he turned to go.

"I'll leave you two to your conversation now," he winked as he walked out the door.

As soon as he was gone, Horatio looked at Calleigh with a look of pure adoration.

"Come back here where you belong, Sweetheart."

Quickly she clambered back up onto his bed and into his waiting arms.

"Now where were we?" he purred, his voice sending shivers of delight dancing over her skin. "Oh, yes. I think we were…" and his lips captured hers again.

His hands urged her closer to him, and she pressed as close as their positions and the hospital bed would allow.

Finally they let wisdom cool the heat of their embrace and their kisses grew less intense, gentler, until they were simply forehead to forehead nuzzling each other softly.

"Calleigh, stay with me tonight?" he murmured.

"Just you try to get me out of this bed, Horatio Caine," she answered in a sassy voice.

Later that night while making his rounds, the doctor found them both tucked into Horatio's bed, sound asleep in each other's arms. Calleigh was cuddled against his side with her head pillowed on his chest. Horatio's chin rested on top of her head, a contented smile on his handsome face.

Shaking his head in gentle amusement, the doctor quietly closed the door and left them to their dreams.

**A/N With the conclusion of this story, I am forced to take an unwanted and unwelcomed break from writing due to an injury I suffered at work. My left wrist is in a splint and it is rather difficult to manipulate the keyboard with only one hand in working condition. **


End file.
